


You're Mr. Orange

by Amsare



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: First Kiss, Flash Fic, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: Something inside himself had broken. He wondered if Mr. Orange had killed Freddy Newandyke once for all with a kiss.





	

That was the first time Freddy was doing an undercover job. He had worked hard to have it and now that he was in the game, well, he had to admit that he thought it would have been easier. Just play your role, act like a credible criminal, go to the heist, arrest Joe Cabot next. Everybody go home, Freddy's the winner.  
   
Unfortunately, he hadn't thought that a criminal like _Larry Dimmick_ could be so friendly: it was like they had always known each other, like they had always been best pals. That man was so different from the ordinary human scum Freddy saw every day at the Central. Joe had ordered not to talk too much about themselves but they had done the opposite, getting to know each other. Not mentioning that Freddy hadn’t expected to fall for this Larry Dimmick. After just a couple of hours in that club, Freddy's mind was far gone. Holdaway would have killed him if he had known what kind of thoughts Freddy had about this famous criminal.  
   
And that had been just the beginning.  
   
Meeting the other guys, getting their aliases, planning the heist step by step.  
Everybody thought Freddy was a newbie and Freddy was okay with it: they didn't know anything. He was safe. The idea of Mr. Orange as an undercover cop was simply ridiculous. Mr. Orange was a cool guy, a smart one, a perfect criminal.  
   
So Holdaway was delighted with Freddy's job.  
   
_Whatever._  
   
Freddy couldn't take pride in it: there was like a weight growing in his chest, every day getting heavier and heavier. In his little apartment, eating cereals or watching crappy tv shows, it was there – he couldn't even sleep well.  
   
That wasn't supposed to be happening.  
   
_Guilt_ was eating him alive.  
   
"Good work, Newandyke. Wait for them to call you, don't do anything stupid and you'll be home soon."  
   
The phone call had ended just like that and Freddy couldn't feel the rush of the adrenaline, he couldn’t feel anything. Then, when he had met Holdaway face to face, he wished he could have been with Larry instead.  
  
He was getting envious of Mr. Orange, starting to hate the real Freddy-Newandyke-the-undercover-cop. When he had this thought, he knew he was screwed. Was Larry worth it? Was he really worth his life, his career? There was no turning back: one night, sitting in Larry's car, he pressed his lips against Larry's as one thing led to another.  
  
_I'm fucking crazy, that’s it._  
  
Instead of pushing him away, Larry responded eagerly to that unexpected kiss. He was so sweet, something that Freddy didn't thought to be possible. "Well, this is a hell of a surprise, kid," he said, smirking at him as soon as the kiss ended.  
  
Freddy's mind was buzzing.  
  
_Think of the job, Newandyke, stick to the plan,_ a voice like Holdaway's one was saying. Except he just couldn't listen to it: something inside himself had broken. He wondered if Mr. Orange had killed Freddy Newandyke once for all with a kiss.  
   
That night Freddy didn't call Holdaway; he had lied down on his bed, Larry's body over his own, kissing and touching every bit of skin he could reach.  
"You're perfect, kid," Larry had murmured among the kisses, one hand caressing Freddy's chest under the shirt, making him shiver.  
Freddy felt alive, pleasure made him forget every problem: fuck the plan, fuck Holdaway, fuck Joe Cabot and his fucking money. Soon after, all that mattered was Larry's hot mouth on his neck, the man's hips meeting his own, trust after trust. When Freddy reached the orgasm, he moaned– _Larry, yes, Larry_ – hands scratching his back. He didn't complain as Larry kept on moving, chasing his own release. It was fascinating looking at his face coming apart.  
   
Later, while Larry was smoking a cigarette, Freddy was lying next to him, one arm on his eyes, half asleep.  
  
"I think I should leave," Larry said, exhaling some smoke. "We shared too many private infos."  
  
Freddy laughed, "Joe's gonna be pissed."  
  
"Oh I'm sorry," Larry snorted, "I didn't know you wanted to talk about this to Joe."  
  
There was an awkward silence, followed by a big laugh. Freddy moved to rest his head on Larry's chest, hearing his heart beating. "I ain't gonna move from here," he said, closing his eyes.  
  
Larry sighed, caressing Freddy's head, ruffling his hair. "Goodnight then, kid."  
  
Freddy's body relaxed, enjoying Larry's closeness.  
  
Freddy Newandyke didn't exist right then.  
  
   
  
_You're okay. You'll find a way and you'll both be okay. Don't think about it, now._  
  
   
_You're Mr. Orange._


End file.
